


heat stroke

by tol_sirion



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Degradation, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27578410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tol_sirion/pseuds/tol_sirion
Summary: you said you like the pressure / well how you like my back?It had felt ridiculous and inelegant, up until the moment Hyunjin dug his heel in by accident, unbalanced, and Jisung’s face had turned rosy red, eyes shining when Hyunjin got a good look while trying to apologize.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 112





	heat stroke

**Author's Note:**

> it's the footrest jisung agenda
> 
> im kidding i just saw hyunjin use him as a footrest when i saw the back door mv and i immediately lost my shit. it's been two months since then but it's never too late okay? this isn't foot fetish though i promise

The ceiling lights are dimmed in the practice room, the door locked to ensure nobody trespasses, and Hyunjin leans back in the sofa seat, secure in knowing they won’t be disturbed. He doesn’t want anyone else to see the sight in front of him. That was the one stipulation Jisung had when they fell into this.

Jisung’s eyes gleam in the low light, kneeling at his feet with his hands resting on his own knees.

Hyunjin makes a turning motion with his finger. Ever so slowly Jisung turns, dropping his hands to the floor and shifting until he’s sideways. It’s a humiliating position, and it only gets worse when Hyunjin raises both feet and rests them on his back.

Jisung’s arms buckle briefly before he’s straightening them out, bracing himself against the sudden weight.

It’s reminiscent of their position during the dance for Back Door, and yet not the same at all.

_The Creation of Adam_ , Seungmin had said when they had seen the move where his and Hyunjin’s fingers were to meet, the group holding Hyunjin up. It had felt ridiculous, the way Changbin wrapped an arm around his waist, the way Minho’s hand kept slipping to his ass rather than his thigh, the way he had to rest his foot on Jisung’s back.

It had felt ridiculous and inelegant, up until the moment Hyunjin dug his heel in by accident, unbalanced, and Jisung’s face had turned rosy red, eyes shining when Hyunjin got a good look while trying to apologize.

_The Creation of Adam_. Hyunjin sees the appeal.

Jisung had made no mention of it when they had finished the run-through. Hyunjin had made to apologize again, but he had seemed unflappable, immovable, just laughing and high-fiving Chan for a successful dance.

He’s not laughing now. His head is hanging down between his shoulders, body tensed up.

Hyunjin tilts his foot and lets his heel dig into the spot between his shoulder blades. He hadn’t known which shoes to wear, trying to figure out which one had the least sharp heel.

Jisung had held out a pair of combat boots, head held high and defiant. The soles are thick and sturdy, meant for icy winters. Not for soft skin, barely protected by a t-shirt.

Jisung lets out a low groan. His arms are already shaking.

“Relax,” Hyunjin tells him, voice pitched low. He knows that people can see them through the glass of the door if they come by. Keeping his voice quiet won’t stop that, but it feels like it helps. “If you stay tense, you’re gonna collapse faster. What kind of footrest are you if you can’t even stay upright?”

Jisung tilts his head, gritting his teeth, but slowly forces his body to relax, losing some of his tension. His fingers slide against the floor. It takes him a moment to force his legs back together from where they’re slowly sliding apart.

Hyunjin hums and crosses his legs, leaning back and pulling his phone out. He doesn’t pay it much attention, not really. He’s hyper focused on every little motion Jisung makes, every shift, every hitch of breath. His breathing is turning more labored, but Hyunjin doesn’t let it affect him immediately. Tries to keep his face impassive as he plays a game.

He hears a low whine and tilts his phone down to see Jisung’s arms slowly start trembling.

“You wanted this,” Hyunjin taunts, shifting his feet, “so you better stay still. I can’t believe you got hard in the middle of practice just from me putting my foot on your back.”

Jisung had cornered him after practice when everyone else had slowly trickled outside. Hyunjin had stayed to stretch for a while, and Jisung had towered over him, cheeks ruddy as he muttered about how Hyunjin better keep his feet in check next time.

Hyunjin’s eyes had traveled down, rather than to keep meeting Jisung’s, to see his cock twitch in his sweats.

“I’m not the one popping a boner from dancing,” he had said, teasing, “I’m not the on who should be keeping myself in check.”

Jisung flushed even further, muttering a complaint under his breath while turning away to do his own stretching. But he had seemed interested, eyes glancing back every so often, and Hyunjin… he could work with this.

“Is that what you want?” he had asked, sliding closer, pressing his chest to Jisung’s back and bracketing his legs with his own, “if you wanted to be _used_ , you just had to say.”

Jisung had tilted his head back to look at him, lips wet and red. “If I say yes, what would you do?”

Hyunjin had merely smiled, plans already forming.

And it’s not like it was the only time they talked about it. Hyunjin doesn’t want to do anything Jisung doesn’t. But this seems simple enough. He can give Jisung what he wants while taking some for his own. His mind runs rampant with ideas and desires, even now. There’s no script, no cue to tell him what to do next, so he just goes with his instinct.

Jisung looks like he wants to retort, but bites whatever it is back, turning his head away. Hyunjin looks down at him and _wants_.

His cock throbs in his sweats, and he surreptitiously pushes the heel of his palm down against it, closing his eyes at how good it feels. He wonders if Jisung is hard too, if his cock is drooling against his thigh.

When his eyes flutter open, Jisung has turned his head to look at him. He’s sweating a little, forehead shining, and he keeps licking his lips, unable to keep still properly. It must hurt, staying on his knees like that.

Hyunjin smiles and stretches out both legs, wiggling his feet up and down. Jisung groans, elbows buckling, and Hyunjin clicks his tongue.

“You’re the shittiest footrest I’ve ever seen,” he says, but decides to take some pity on him, “but you can go down on your elbows, I guess.”

Jisung immediately drops down to his elbows with a grateful sigh. It pushes his ass out, back arching, and Hyunjin hums and taps the toe of his boot against Jisung’s lower back.

He drops one foot, and it makes Jisung tense. Good. He should know Hyunjin has plans for him. Hyunjin trails it up and down Jisung’s thigh, and then finally nudges it up between his legs.

Jisung gasps, legs snapping together and trapping his foot. It’s hard to feel much with the boots on, but he had definitely nudged up against something firm.

“Jisung.” Hyunjin snaps and Jisung groans, letting his legs part again. Hyunjin keeps nudging his foot curiously against his cock until Jisung is panting, body shaking.

“I didn’t know you like pain so much.” he remarks, pulling his foot away and resting it on Jisung’s back again. “It’s cute. You’re so cute, Jisungie.”

Jisung collapses, legs giving out. Hyunjin stares down at him, then sighs.

“Well, that was disappointing,” he says and pulls his feet away, sitting up straighter. “Now what, Jisungie?”

Jisung rolls onto his side and covers his face. His cheeks are flaming red, from what little Hyunjin can see, and his cock is definitely hard, tenting the material of his sweats obscenely. There’s a wet spot, and Hyunjin is so, so grateful Jisung had decided to wear grey ones so he can see it properly.

Hyunjin slides out of his seat and sits astride him, pushing Jisung over onto his front so he can push his t-shirt up. There are red marks scratched across his back, and Hyunjin’s breath hitches in his throat when he sees them. He put them there, and it’s so hot that Jisung liked it so much. He shifts so he can put his mouth to one, dragging his tongue over. He wonders if it’ll bruise.

Jisung groans beneath him, arching his back into it.

“Can I- would you-”

Hyunjin pulls away and tilts his head.

“What do you want? Speak up.”

Jisung pulls his hands from his face, rolling onto his back when Hyunjin relents and takes his weight off.

“Can you touch me?”

“Touch?” Hyunjin looks down at his lap, and rubs his fingertips over the wet spot. Over the tip of Jisung’s cock. “Like this?”

Jisung whimpers, pushing up into it.

“You know that’s not what I mean!” he snaps.

Hyunjin hums and shrugs, cupping his cock through the material and pushing the heel of his palm against the base of his cock.

“Want me to get you off?”

Jisung glares up at him even while his hips twitch up into it, and Hyunjin gives him his best grin in return.

“Please.” Jisung finally says, reluctant and needy. “I was good.”

“You were shit.” Hyunjin replies and rolls his eyes. “But it could have been worse, I guess. Come on.”

He gets up and drops back onto the sofa, patting his lap. “Get up.”

Jisung scrambles to his feet and into Hyunjin’s lap, resting his arms on his shoulders.

“Am I the one using you as a seat now?” he quips.

Hyunjin reaches up to flick his nose. “Don’t be witty.”

Jisung pouts, puffing up his cheeks, and then Hyunjin reaches down to squeeze his cock again, causing him to gasp instead, eyes fluttering shut.

“If we weren’t recording tomorrow I’d totally suck your cock,” Hyunjin laments.

He does want to get his mouth on it. Jisung’s cock feels nicely sized and he’s leaking copiously, the wet spot growing bigger and bigger. He lightly massages it with his fingers and Jisung hisses, trying to rock into his hand, arms tightening.

“You can still do it,” he says, a little desperate. His voice cracks. It’s so cute, and Hyunjin coos at him. Jisung blushes, but powers through. “You don’t have to take it deep- let me feel your tongue, at least, c’mon.”

“Maybe another time,” Hyunjin settles for, though it’s tempting when Jisung clearly wants it so much, “if you’re a good little footrest for me for our promotions.”

Jisung nods, sucking on his lower lip, and Hyunjin pulls his hand away to push Jisung’s sweats down past the swell of his ass, tugging the front down to rest beneath his balls. His cock smacks against his stomach, fat and wet at the tip, staining his t-shirt. He’s not wearing any underwear, apparently.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Hyunjin says, dragging his thumb over the slit. Precum glistens where it clings to his thumb and Hyunjin puts it in his mouth to taste. It’s salty, and Jisung could probably do with eating more vegetables. Whatever. It’s addicting anyway.

Jisung is watching him, eyes half lidded and lips parted, chest heaving like he’s run a marathon. His cock keeps twitching against his stomach. Hyunjin spits in his hand wraps his fingers around it, giving it a few slow strokes.

“Oh,” Jisung shudders, hands gripping Hyunjin’s shoulders tightly. “Oh, more of that.”

“You’re so demanding.” Hyunjin gripes, but keeps stroking him, squeezing around the head. “Fuck my fist.”

He spits again, the head of Jisung’s cock peeking out, and when Jisung slowly starts fucking in and out of his fist it gets everything wetter, better. He might not really need spit, with how wet he apparently gets when he’s horny, but Hyunjin doesn’t want any accidental chafing.

Jisung rocks into his fist as best he can, the pace unsteady, and he whines and buries his face against Hyunjin’s neck, humping forwards like he’s never done it before. Which Hyunjin _knows_ he has, because he’s stumbled over Jisung and Minho fucking more times than he can count, so. It’s still cute, though, Jisung whining and drooling against his neck, cock twitching and twitching and twitching.

Hyunjin finally pulls on his hair, making Jisung sit back. He’s drooling, face sweaty and eyes shiny like he might cry. It’s nasty, but Hyunjin chases a drop of spit, drags his tongue from Jisung’s chin and up to his mouth to kiss him.

Somehow that’s what gets Jisung going, and he can’t kiss back because he’s busy coming, mouth going slack with how loud he moans, eyes rolling back into his head. Hyunjin still tries kissing at his mouth, feeling come soak his hand, and finally pulls back to look.

Jisung shudders against him, still whining cutely because Hyunjin is kind of addicted to stroking him even when he’s done coming. His cock is so red, and Hyunjin thinks fuck it and pushes Jisung down onto the couch next to him and slides off and down to his knees, shuffling between Jisung’s thighs to suck it into his mouth.

“Oh fuck-” Jisung chokes out, startled, his hand coming to grip Hyunjin’s hair. “Oh shit, fuck, Hyunjin-”

Hyunjin sucks on it, dragging his tongue over the head to catch a taste of come, but then Jisung pushes at his head.

“I can’t, fuck,” Jisung hisses, sounding almost pained.

Hyunjin has to take pity on him, settling back on his heels. Jisung looks like a sweaty mess, cock softening in his lap. It’s a hot look on him, and Hyunjin is shameless enough to shove his hand into his own pants to stroke himself with a bitten back groan. He’s hard and aching, and it was easy to forget about it while he was getting Jisung off, but now he’s dying to come.

Jisung looks at him, wide-eyed, and then slips off the couch as well.

“Let me see,” he breathes, uncaring that his cock is still hanging out like that. “Hyunjin, c’mon, let me see.”

Hyunjin shoves his pants down enough to get his cock out and Jisung’s eyes widen in surprise. They knew Hyunjin’s cock is bigger, had a measuring contest back when they were fighting over everything including who has the biggest dick, but neither of them were hard at the time.

Now though, he is, and Jisung wets his lips and reaches out, calloused fingers grazing the tip of Hyunjin’s cock. That’s all it takes, a lightning strike of pleasure, and Hyunjin almost sobs when he comes, pitching forward into Jisung’s arms. Jisung holds him tightly, one hand trapped between them still, trying to stroke even if the angle is awkward.

He doesn’t need it anyway, Hyunjin strokes himself tight and fast through his orgasm, gasping the whole time.

Then he just stays there, trying to catch his breath, still holding his cock while it slowly softens. When he finally sits back, he finds Jisung looking at him with a dopey smile. His eyes trail down, and he has to bite back a laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” he snorts.

Jisung looks confused for a second and looks down as well.

“You fucker!”

“It was an accident!” Hyunjin says with a laugh.

He’s somehow managed to come all over Jisung’s t-shirt, leaving him a mess. Jisung grumbles, trying to ineffectively wipe at it, and Hyunjin reaches over to try and help him.

Someone bangs on the door and they both jump and freeze, slowly looking over. Chan glares at them through the window, making a throat-cutting motion when he has their attention.

They scramble to put their cocks away and get to their feet, knowing they’re in for the lecture of the century. The practice rooms are supposed to be off-limits, and Hyunjin knows he could argue because how many times hasn’t Chan gotten off in his own damn studio, but sometimes you have to pick your battles.

_It was worth it_ , he thinks while they’re marched down the hallway in a bizarre sort of walk of shame. He can’t wait to do it again.


End file.
